Harry Potter and the Blood of Confucius
by Michaelmas
Summary: AU after OotP. After a summer of drugs and violence in the muggle world, Harry joins the Order of the Phoenix. Learning to trust Snape and fighting to control the rising power of Voldemort, Harry manages to clash with the Ministry too.
1. Birthday Adventures

**A/N: This story begins in the summer after 5th year, and is rendered AU after HBP. **

**Oh, and all hail to J.K. Rowling, disclaimer, etc. blah blah, I make no money from this.**

**The story is rated M for drug use and violence, as well as a wee bit of shagging later on – oh, and language. Did I forget the language?**

**Enjoy.**

**Chapter 1: Birthday Adventures**

Harry Potter of Number 4, Privet Drive, lay on his bed, a crumpled parchment across his chest. A cold, unseasonable mist pressed at the window panes, and the dull glow of streetlamps slanted across the dirty carpet in the darkness.

Harry stared up at the ceiling, his belted back itching, and ran over the letter again in his mind.

_Dear Harry,_

_I do hope you are enjoying the summer holidays. _

_If you are agreeable, an Order member will call to collect you at 1 o'clock on the morning of July 31st._

_Please send your reply as promptly as possible; this matter is of the utmost import._

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry had scribbled a reply and sent Hedwig off out the window. Unfortunately it had been at this point that his uncle had chosen to check on him; hence his third beating in two days.

It was 12:30. His trunk was packed at the foot of his bed, he was dressed and his wand was in his jeans pocket. Standing up and stretching, Harry fished a lighter from his back pocket and lit Dumbledore's letter, dropping it in the bin.

His jeans and hoodie were still too baggy, but he had grown over the month he had been at Privet Drive; his shoulders had filled out from the fighting and he was roughly on par with Ron for height; his hair had grown and his jaw and nose were more defined – Jasper had said he looked more man than boy now.

Dragging his trunk downstairs was an ordeal, but he managed it without too much noise, until he stood in the hallway. He pulled a piece of parchment out of his back pocket and taped it to the front door, smirking at it.

_I won't be back. Oh, and fuck you._

_Harry_

He unlocked the door; the keys left hanging in it, and checked his watch. 12:40.

Pushing it open, he winced as his trunk scraped over the threshold, then he straightened painfully, grimacing as the scabs on his back cracked.

Leaving his trunk on the low garden wall, Harry strolled down the street to where an old Peugeot waited. As he drew near Jasper got out. His blond dread-locks were matted but he was sober; he made to clap Harry on the back, but thought better of it.

"You leaving?"

"Yeah, some fucker from school's gonna be here at 1." He smiled at the bereft expression on Jasper's face. "I'll be in London next summer, and I might be in town at Christmas. I'll get in touch if I am."

Jasper grinned and the two shook hands. "You watch it, Sparky."

"Yeah," he smirked, "and you watch the fuzz, crack-head." Jasper laughed and got back in the car. It reversed into the bumper of the one parked behind it and tore off down the street.

It was a moment before he noticed his audience.

Leaning on the wall to his left, tall and silent, Severus Snape folded his arms across his chest. His hair was drawn back in a scruffy ponytail, strands of it falling across his face – which was unshaven and stubbled.

There were shadows beneath his eyes, and he was dressed in dirty jeans and a muggle jacket and t-shirt. The only things reminiscent of magic were his dragon-hide boots and the ash wand poking out of his belt.

"Hey, Snape," he greeted.

"Potter," acknowledged Snape with a faint sneer, "eloquent as ever, I see." Harry was astonished at the lack of a rebuke.

He fell into step beside Snape as the Potions Master headed back towards Number 4. "So…where're we going?"

"To initiate you into the Order of the Phoenix, Sparky." Harry glanced at him sharply.

"Fuck you," he muttered. But instead of exploding, Snape snorted with laughter. "I'm really joining the Order?"

Snape smirked. "Yes. But first we're going to Knockturn alley, and then you and I are going to have a chat at Grimmauld Place – no, don't ask why, imbecile." He sneered. "I can tell you, though, that we'll be taking Narcissa Malfoy and the owner of Borgin & Burkes' with us." Harry nearly choked. "They have vital information about Hogwarts' defences, and we've been ordered to apprehend them."

Harry stopped dead. Snape turned to look at him. "What are you playing at, Snape? You're being…nice." There really was no other word for it. "What's going on?"

He hadn't expected an answer, and he certainly hadn't expected Snape to glance away. When Snape spoke, his voice was soft. "In the past month I have been watching you four days a week for the order. I have also been spending too much time with the Headmaster. These…happenings… have brought me to a realization." Snape looked at him now, his gaze almost painful. "That you are not your father."

Before the summer Harry would have laughed in his face – but a month of street-fights and shady alliances had changed him more than he knew. He stuck out his hand, and to his shock Snape shook it without a word. He opened his mouth to -

CRACK!

Harry stumbled and a strong hand closed about his biceps, pulling him upright. The alley in which they found themselves was dark and reeked. "Asshole," he said under his breath.

A light drizzle fell, dampening the filthy cobble-stones and rusty gutters as Harry followed Snape through the winding labyrinth of moldy stone. He gripped his wand tightly up his sleeve, taking a moment to wonder at the strangeness of the night's events.

"When we get to Borgin's shop there will be no more talking. It is imperative that we take them both – or my position with the Dark Lord will be forfeit."

Abruptly Snape slowed and stuck out a hand to stop him. His palms were sweaty as the tall man pointed silently to the dangling sign: Borgin & Burkes'. The pair moved forward slowly, Harry turning to survey the empty alley at their backs as Snape inched open the door, sliding an arm in and up to seize and hold the bell before it could ring.

He jerked his head and Harry obediently slipped in, Snape following him, closing the door softly and releasing the bell. Harry glanced uneasily at Snape, who motioned him to move off to the left, himself taking the right. Then he was alone in the dark and dust.

Reminding himself of all the street fights of the past month, he picked his way carefully down the row of low shelves. The counter was before him, and from behind it drifted the hushed tones of voices.

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet? It's all over the country, the Dark Lord is furious-!"

"Lucius was in disgrace for it – but now he has the key to Hogwarts' defenses. I need to speak to Azrael!" Harry inched closer, wand at the ready. He could see them now, muttering furiously across a small table. Narcissa Malfoy was immaculate as ever, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes gleaming, and she kept gesticulating angrily.

Borgin's oily hair was slicked back, his sallow skin shiny in the light from candles on the table. He shook his head violently.

"Azrael is not here, and he would kill us as soon as look at us, you foolish woman." The pair turned away and Harry glanced frantically around – where was Snape?

Narcissa Malfoy stepped over to the fireplace, reaching for the floo powder. Harry leapt forwards.

"STUPIFY!" The spell caught her in the back and she fell forwards onto the hearth as Borgin turned, wand slashing down, mouth open.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry hurled himself left and crashed into a book-shelf, a jet of green light shooting over his head. He pushed himself up, brandishing his wand with a wild cry.

"INCENDIO! REDUCTO!" Borgin twisted to avoid a jet of flame and conjured a shield to stop the second spell, sending a bone-breaking curse back at Harry. There was a loud crack as it impacted with his chest, throwing him back to slide across the wooden floor-boards, Borgin stepping forwards –

A shadow detached itself from the wall to the right, wand slashing down silently. Borgin staggered back with a cry, his chest deeply cut by the spell. He turned frantically to his attacker, only to be sent crashing into the mantle-piece by a stunning spell of blistering speed.

Harry struggled to his feet as Snape stepped over the broken table, muttering, "Incarcerous." With a flick of his wand the pair were bound tightly, and he turned to Harry, who was clutching his side. "Could you not perhaps have used a shield, Mr. Potter?"

Harry sneered at him. "Well, you know, it might have negated the need for me to be fussed over at Headquarters. Wouldn't want me to lose the spotlight, would we now?"

To Harry's astonishment the Potions Master snorted. "Come, Potter, hold this," said Snape, handing him a finger-glove from his pocket. Snape bent to touch both Narcissa Malfoy and Borgin, and then placed a finger on the portkey. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but the world was lost in a whirl of color and pain from his broken ribs.

**TBC**


	2. Grimmauld Place

**A/N: This is a bit of a Harry-centric chapter, but lots of Snape is on the way soon, along with lots more violence and some drugs.**

**Chapter 2: Grimmauld Place**

Harry sat still at the table, shifting every now and then to keep his ribs from becoming too agonizing. Pain shot through his chest with every breath as he waited for Snape to return from…wherever it was he had gone.

He fished around in his pockets for a joint and a lighter; he lit up.

It took a few hits, but the pain faded, leaving Harry to fly while he waited for Snape. The door opened softly half an hour later, and Snape shrugged out of his leather jacket to dump it on the kitchen table. The Dark Mark was clearly visible on his forearm. "Borgin and Malfoy are in the Headmaster's custody. All that remains now is Lucius and what he knows – but he is in Azkaban."

He sniffed the air and glanced at Harry. "Up, Potter. I need to see those ribs to fix them." Harry didn't move.

"Ah…I think it just glanced off me, actually," he said casually.

Snape sneered. "Nonsense, Potter, I _heard_ your ribs break." Harry had gone pale, and Snape stopped twirling his wand to look at him. "What are you not telling me, Mr. Potter?" Harry glanced down at the floor, and opened his mouth to begin weaving his lie – then he made the biggest mistake of his life: he looked up.

"Legilimens!"

* * *

"_Mikey fucked up! He said the car was on the corner!"_

"_It is, fuckwit," answered Harry. "Let me get my tool." So saying, he seized the brick off the floor and hopped out of the car, pulling his hood up as he did so. He took a small run-up and hurled the brick._

_It smashed through the back window of the Volvo to loud swearing from inside. Harry whipped out his switchblade as his mates piled out of the car he had come from, yelling._

_The startled occupants of the Volvo were getting out as well, swearing loudly, knives gleaming in the moonlight. _

"_What the fuck d'you think you're doing, Sparky? This is our turf – or didn't Tamberlaine get that?" Harry spat at him and moved in, slashing out with his knife and ducking under a swing at the same time. _

_He heard the crack of a baseball bat on bone from behind him and swiped up at Johnny with his blade, opening his cheek and then the back of his hand in turn._

_Johnny's knife fell from nerveless fingers and Harry's elbow shattered his nose. Jasper was beside him now, and he smashed the baseball bat brutally into Johnny's abdomen. As he doubled over Harry brought his knee up into his face, and Mercutio clubbed him over the back with a plank. _

_He went down without a sound, just as Mercutio flew forwards from the impact of a hockey stick over his head. A second blow caught Harry's face as he turned to his assailant, and he heard his nose break. He hurled himself forwards and tackled the other boy to the ground. _

_Straddling his chest, he pounded his fists down into him with all his strength until he went limp._

_Standing up, he staggered and cracked his nose back into place – and vomited all over his last opponent._

_Mercutio was sitting on the blood-slick tarmac looking dazed, and Jasper and Toby were flipping through the wallets of Johnny and his three friends, who lay broken and bloodied on the road. _

_Harry bent to pick up his dropped knife and cleaned it off on his tatty grey hoodie. Wiping the blood from his nose he spat on Johnny, then gave him a kick for good measure. _

_Turning to Toby, he said, "Let's get the coke." Toby handed him a crowbar as Marcus, the only one old enough to drive, hopped out of the car to join them by the battered Volvo. It took Harry a moment, but he managed to prize open the boot._

_The others were busy heaving Johnny and his mates back into the car, and Harry passed the bags of coke to Marcus. Harry moved round the car to the front seat and pulled Johnny's head back roughly._

"_It's our turf now, shit-head." _

* * *

_He was high and drunk when he got home, but that didn't matter – it made the beatings less painful. He had a tidy sum stashed under the floorboards from selling the coke and last week's scag._

_He lay on his stomach on his bed, feeling the blood from his torn back run over his sides. It was painful to stand, but after two lines of coke he felt better. He pulled on a hoodie, not bothering with a shirt, and shoved two knives and some cash in a pocket, before making his way downstairs and out._

* * *

"_Drop it, Sparky. Drop it now." Tamberlaine was on his knees in, head pulled back by Johnny. Harry's hand trembled around his own knife as he watched the one pressed against Tamberlaine's throat._

_The fourteen-year-old was shaking. "He didn't know this was your turf, Johnny. Let him go." He spoke with confidence he didn't feel._

"_He shouldn't have fucking been here, Sparky. Now drop it or his tongue'll be a new fucking necklace!" He jerked the dark-haired boy's head back, drawing a line of blood over his larynx. Harry stepped back._

"_Ok," he said, "Ok, just take that away from his neck, would you?" So saying, he dropped his own knife and backed further away. Johnny smiled; Harry felt both his arms grabbed roughly from behind. _

"_What the fuck are you doing?" A foot impacted hard with the back of his knee, sending him down. "Johnny, just let him go." But Johnny was smiling and Tamberlaine was crying, grey eyes locked with Harry's. He was going to kill him._

"_Johnny! Johnny! I can flog anything you want! I can get anything! I've got scag!" he shouted desperately. "Please, Johnny! Please!"_

_In the instant before it happened he knew it would. Johnny grinned and drew the knife back, ramming it into Tamberlaine's back. He did it again, and again, and Tamberlaine arched away from the knife, a ragged cry escaping him._

_Then blows were raining down on him as he screamed himself hoarse, fighting madly to get loose. Something heavy cracked over the back of his skull, throwing him forwards, and then there was a sharp, piercing pain in his side as he was stabbed._

_Feet thudded into him amid laughter and his own terrible screaming, lifting him off the ground. _

_At last he lay still, his cheek pressed against the wet concrete, staring into Tamberlaine's grey eyes as he choked on his own blood and died._

* * *

The present returned with a sickening lurch, and he found himself on all fours, gasping, tears streaming down his face. Snape's dragon-hide boots were before him, unmoving. 

"You son of a bitch," he spat. He pushed himself up and staggered to the opposite side of the kitchen, scrubbing at his face with the sleeve of his favourite tattered grey hoodie.

"Mr. Potter-"

"Fuck you. Fuck off."

Snape moved forwards and Harry flinched back. "I apologize, Mr. Potter. But I warned you. Now take off your shirt."

Harry backed away around the kitchen table, and suddenly his wand was in his hand. Snape spoke before he could. "This is our secret, Mr. Potter – providing you allow me to treat your injuries." Snape raised one elegant black eye-brow. "Or would you rather go straight to Hogwarts?"

Deflating completely, Harry swore softly under his breath. "Flying fuck." He tossed his wand onto Snape's leather jacket and struggled out of his hoodie and shirt; the pain was excruciating.

Reversing a chair he sat down slowly, and Snape moved up behind him, muttering an incantation.

**TBC**


End file.
